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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24533866">Good Girl</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/la_vie_en_prose/pseuds/la_vie_en_prose'>la_vie_en_prose</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Let's Play (Webcomic)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, First Time, striptease</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 10:08:36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,437</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24533866</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/la_vie_en_prose/pseuds/la_vie_en_prose</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When things don't go well with a potential client on a business trip, Charles finds a way to lift Sam's spirits with a reward that takes them both by surprise.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Charles Jones/Sam Young (Let's Play)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>227</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Good Girl</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The hallway of their hotel was bathed in swaths of light, bright cones that cut across the garish carpet from the sconces spaced along the wall. They walked in silence toward Charles’s room. Outside, it was a balmy, welcoming summer night. Inside, the air was quiet, unmoving, though not oppressive. It was clear that Charles was being considerate in his own way, giving Sam time to work through her feelings.</p><p>Their presentation earlier in the afternoon to a potential new client had been less than successful. Charles had done what he could to salvage the sale, yet Sam couldn’t help but recall the varied expressions around the conference table when she had taken a question on alternative software packages as an honest possibility. “Clearly, you don’t have much faith in your proposed solution then,” the CEO had said, tapping the printout in front of her as she tossed her immaculately cut, bobbed hair. Demetre, they were not, and in her panic, Sam had blundered even further along, failing to register let alone take Charles’s cues to move the conversation in a different direction. </p><p>“It was a learning experience, Samara,” Charles reassured her over dinner, his eyes soft and coaxing. She picked at her salad in obstinate silence, then felt ashamed for acting like a child. “Not all questions should be taken at face value. You will come to get a feel for it in time.”</p><p>What was she supposed to get a feel for, dissimulation? Had she blown the whole thing by taking people at their word? Was that bad? Was it necessary to do otherwise in business?</p><p>A weight was pressing in on Sam, her breaths short and shallow as she nibbled on the tip of her thumb while Charles swiped the key card and swung open the door. He looked back, sighed quietly, and took her wrist in his hand, gently pulling her into the room. They stopped long enough to remove their shoes before he had her in hand again. “Come here, sweetheart,” he murmured while drawing her to one of the unwelcoming, square armchairs that were a part of the room’s contemporary furnishings. “Sit down. That’s a good girl. Now slow down and breathe for me…”</p><p>He knelt before her and, taking Sam’s face in his hands, pressed a kiss to her forehead. She felt the contrast of his cool fingertips on her cheeks and the warmth of his lips, and shuddered a little at the sensation. As if to give her more to focus on, he moved to her temple, leaving one, two pecks there, then another on her nose. Charles pulled back a few inches, giving Sam a clear view of his blue eyes as he searched her face, and she found herself smiling in return as if to say ‘I’m okay and thank you.’ And it was true – the weight on her chest had begun to recede, making way for something light and warm.</p><p>The corner of Charles’s lips curled, a smile flashing by before he closed the distance between them to steal a kiss. It was firm and comforting the way he moved against her lips, like a weighted blanket, except weighted blankets didn’t run the tip of their tongue along your lower lip as far as Sam knew. She mewled without thought and Charles withdrew, smirking. “Allow me get you a glass of water,” he suggested. He gave her cheek one last affectionate swipe with the pad of this thumb before rising and crossing toward his suite’s small kitchenette.</p><p>Sam watched him as he moved about and shifted awkwardly in her seat. She had been too wrapped up in her distress at dinner to engage in his well-meant attempts to cheer her up. Undaunted, he was still patient and reassuring. He was probably right but her insecurity still loomed large. She couldn’t shake the impression that the fault lay with her and she was anxious to know, if so, would have to give up or change some part of herself to be successful in this field?</p><p>“Charles…”</p><p>“Yes?” He had his back to her as he poured cold water from a carafe into two glasses.</p><p>“Charles, I- I blew it today, didn’t I?” She fidgeted with the fabric of her purple blouse, untucking a bit from her pencil skirt.</p><p>Charles set the carafe down and turned. She had expected, after his earlier sweetness, to see the subtle smile he sometimes reserved for her, but his expression was neutral, save for a slight, almost inquisitive tilt to his eyebrows. Surprised, she burrowed deeper into the chair, as if trying to sink into the stiff, unforgiving cushion.</p><p>“I- I mean, if I hadn’t answered the w- way I did, you would have gotten the sale. But t- they didn’t like what I said – I said the wrong thing and- and- ... I’m not meant for this. I should just s- stay behind in the office. Please let me stay in the office next time…”</p><p>Charles sighed but said nothing. He took up the two glasses and moved, casually and slowly, to where she sat. Sam squirmed in the silence while he set one glass on the side table next to her and another on the coffee table. Then he backed away a few feet, crossed his arms, tilted his head, and nailed her with his cool blue gaze.</p><p>“Stand up, Samara.”</p><p>“Wh- What?” A moment later, realizing what this signaled, she colored and waved her hands in front of her. “You can’t be serious!”</p><p>“Of course I am.” He arched a pale eyebrow.</p><p>“Charles, we’re not at work. I don’t want to do the e- exercise!”</p><p>“No, we are not at work,” he said, his tone dripping with meaning. “<i>Stand up</i>.”</p><p>She positively shivered at the way his voice lowered on the command. Chewing her lower lip, Sam slunk gracelessly out of the armchair. She managed to place her hands on her hips but unconsciously pigeon toed her feet and looked for all the world as if she wanted to sink into the ground.</p><p>“You know what to do, Samara…” Charles chided quietly, watching her every move intently from his vantage point at a distance.</p><p>It took a few deep breaths before Sam could complete the power pose. She straightened her back, drawing herself up to be long and strong, and spread her feet hip-width apart, as he had taught her. Then she did her best to level him with her best artificially confident stare. His lips twitched but he said nothing, simply waiting.</p><p>“I love… I love that I convinced you to t- take the subway earlier.”</p><p>That earned her a chuckle from Charles, whose eyes glittered with amusement but also something implacable. “Try again, Miss Young.”</p><p>Sam frowned at the change. “We’re not at work. Why are you calling m-”</p><p>“Does it displease you?” he asked, uncrossing his arms to toy absently with his watchband.</p><p>“Y- Yes… I’m your g- girlfriend,” Sam offered weakly. Her posture flagged.</p><p>“A girlfriend abounding in positive qualities that do not involve public transportation, I might add, and whom I would be glad to reward if she would only complete her exercise.”</p><p>A spark of disobedience flashed through Sam, but she had long since learned that the best way out of this situation was to give Charles what he wanted, however begrudging and whatever embarrassment it cost her in the moment. She squared herself into the pose once more, fists defiantly on her hips, and announced loudly, “I love that I gave it my best today!”</p><p>Charles smiled, apparently satisfied, and loosened the knot on his tie by working it back and forth in unhurried strokes. “Good girl, Samara,” he murmured as he did so, laying heavy emphasis on her name.</p><p>Sam’s breath hitched at this display and the way he said her name again with such warmth. She watched, fascinated, as he tilted his chin back, exposing the line of his throat, carefully extracted one length of the silk, and then set his nimble fingers about undoing the knot. </p><p>“I am proud of you for today, bunty, however the deal goes,” he added as he unbuttoned his collar and then dragged the loose tie free of its confines.</p><p> He was on the verge of saying something else when his gaze caught hers and his hand stilled, lips parted on an unspoken syllable. Sam, knowing all too well that she was incapable of hiding what she was thinking, dropped her power pose to cover her flushed face with her hands. She heard him laugh quietly and then a soft rustle that must have been the sound of him dropping his tie on the nearby counter.</p><p>“I think I may have given you a different reward than I intended,” he teased, his accent sounding more pronounced. She had just enough presence of mind to wonder if he was doing it on purpose.</p><p>Sam pressed her palms into her cheekbones, feeling the heat coming off her skin, and shook her head ‘no’, though to what, she couldn’t say. Abashed at this latest display of virginal overreaction, she peeked between her fingers to see if Charles was put out by it but found him still watching her instead. Contrary to seeming displeased, he had one forearm raised nonchalantly, the fingers of his other hand poised over the cuff of his dress shirt, unmoving but looking dangerously like a promise. <i>Keep going and see what reward you get next.</i></p><p>Sam’s mouth moved as if in a dream. “I love that… that I like my outfit today.”</p><p>Charles’ sky blue eyes never left hers as he unbuttoned one cuff, then the other, before unclasping his watch, sliding if off of his lean wrist, and depositing it onto the counter as well, each movement deliberate.</p><p>Sam’s fingers splayed further apart, giving her a better view of the man in front of her. “I- I love that I know my dream and I won’t give up on it.”</p><p>As if offering something proportionate in response to her curiosity, Charles pulled the hem of his shirt loose in one slow tug and then methodically released each button until it lay open, revealing the plane of his skin underneath. Then, smirking, he shrugged it off and tossed it across the back of a bar stool.</p><p>She had seen Charles shirtless before, of course, but something about this time – the intimacy of it – caused the heat to rise in more than just her face. “I love…” She squeaked on the last syllable, stopped, and then burst out in one breath. “I love that I can be honest about w- wanting to see more!”</p><p>Charles chuckled but she didn’t miss the light dusting of color across his pale face. “I am not opposed but… are you sure?” he asked, testing her gently.</p><p>They had kissed plenty of times before, and his hands and lips had wandered at times, yet Charles had never rushed or pressured her toward physical intimacy that she wasn’t ready for in that moment. So what was she ready for in <i>this</i> moment? Sam’s hands dropped from her face and were tangled up in the fabric of her shirt once more. After a moment, she nodded, a short, quick movement but an affirmation nonetheless.</p><p>In answer, Charles’ fingers came to rest over his belt buckle. “Well then?”</p><p>Sam gawked at him. “I still have to- …?”</p><p>“You want to see more and I want to hear more,” came his simple reply. He shrugged, a mischievous glint to his eyes.</p><p>“I love that I can form lasting, healthy friendships with p- people I care about and who care about me.” She was digging deep into her memory, pulling items from the notebook into which she had scribbled prepared answers, much to Charles’ previous dismay. She had a feeling he wouldn’t mind now though. She had a feeling this had become about something more than her self-esteem. She had a feeling this had become about them.</p><p>His belt buckle clacked as he deftly unfastened it with one hand and the leather made a soft <i>thwp</i> sound as it snaked free of the loops around his waist. Charles tossed the discarded accessory onto a nearby chair. The low glow coming from the table lamps in the room made his bare skin look supple and inviting. She wanted to touch him so badly.</p><p>“I love that the people in our office respect me for my abilities and not for being the CEO’s daughter.”</p><p>He unbuttoned his slacks with a quick movement of two fingers and, without wasting a moment, drew his zipper down. Sam had never considered that undoing a zipper could be erotic but there it was. She felt a sweet tremor run through her limbs from head to toe, then almost lost her strength altogether when Charles hooked his thumbs in the waist of his pants and slid them down his thighs. They pooled at his bare feet. He stepped out of them and moved them aside, still staring straight at her.</p><p>Now, this gorgeous man was left in nothing but his boxers. It was agony of a kind. Sam was overwhelmed with the slow, steady throbbing beneath her belly; the tortured curiosity to know what exactly the bulge under the blue fabric of his briefs would be like; the fear in the back of her mind that her nose would start gushing at any moment; the certainty that this was moving toward a new level of intimacy; the worry that she – her body, her lack of experience – would be a disappointment; the burning desire to show him, nevertheless, in this way, with actions and not words, just what she felt for him.</p><p>“I lov-” </p><p>She was interrupted by his throaty order. “<i>Come here</i>, Samara.”</p><p>He was usually the one moving into her personal space. Now, he was commanding her into his. She ceased her fidgeting and took one tentative step after another until she was standing within Charles’ reach. He swept her up a moment later, pulling her slim body into his surprisingly strong arms, and crushed his lips against hers hungrily. She got the impression that he had been holding himself back the entire time and that, even now, as he pressed his arousal against her stomach and took advantage of her gasp to slide his tongue between her lips, he was teetering on the edge of something still. Sam wrapped her arms around him and let her fingers curl into his bare back, hoping to convey something of her own desire.</p><p>Abruptly, Charles broke the kiss and pressed his forehead against hers. His eyes were bright, practically electrified, but clear as he looked at her. “You are sure?” he asked again and, this time, Sam didn’t hesitate. She strained up to meet his height and gave a nibble to his lower lip. In the next moment, she was off her feet and swaying in his arms as he carried her toward the bedroom. </p><p>“Charle-” She felt herself being lowered but her body did not meet the bed, as expected. Instead, Sam was set on her feet, barely getting her bearings before Charles had her face in his hands again and was teasing open her lips once more.</p><p>“Be good and stay still for me,” he murmured into the corner of her mouth. Then he was standing before her, fingers smoothing back her slightly disheveled hair and an expression of adoration on his face. With one hand, he slipped her glasses from her face and set them on the dresser.</p><p>“I love that you are honest to a fault,” Charles whispered as he untucked her blouse from her skirt, his fingertips skating around her waist. Then he moved to the buttons, dexterously releasing her from the purple fabric. She let out an involuntary moan at the way he grazed her skin as he pushed the shirt off her shoulders and he smirked, adding, “including your body.”</p><p>Sam felt the air in the room move across her exposed skin and reflexively tried to cover her chest, but Charles was too quick for her. His fingers looped around her wrists easily and coaxed her arms away, laying her palms against his chest and cradling them there for a moment. She wasn’t sure if it was his intention or not, but Sam could feel his heartbeat thundering under her touch, just like hers.</p><p>“I love that you have such a beautiful, clever mind, able to create something as wonderful as Ruminate.” He hooked his thumbs under the straps of her bra and leisurely guided them off her shoulders, his gaze wandering appreciatively over the lavender-colored undergarment and all that it held. Sam stifled a yelp of surprise when he ducked his head and laid a kiss on the swell of one of her breasts, so distracted by the action that she didn’t even notice him unhooking her bra. He came away with the garment as he stood up once more and tossed it nonchalantly over his shoulder.</p><p>“Charles!” she pleaded, though she couldn’t articulate anything beyond that. Charles merely smiled his imperturbable smile, not at all congruous with the rapid heartbeat she had felt, and ran the palms of his hands over her shoulders, feeling down the nape of her neck to her shoulder blades and then down the length of her spine until he was hovering over the zipper of her skirt. Sam jerked forward reflexively, pressing herself against his chest. He groaned at the sudden pressure of her against him and laid a kiss on the top of her head.</p><p>“I love that you remind me of feelings I thought I had lost forever,” he murmured into her hair. She heard rather than felt her zipper give way under his touch, though she couldn’t miss the feel of the fabric rushing down her legs. Charles held her steady as she stepped out of it. He tried to guide her back a few steps to get a better look at her, but she snuggled into his chest again, arms tight around his waist, cheek pressed against the firm muscle of his chest.</p><p>“Samara…” He was coaxing her again. She conceded by tilting her head up to look at him but otherwise remained glued to his body. “You are beautiful, truly.” His voice was beginning to sound husky and there was something in it, a note of greed perhaps, that made what he said convincing too. Maybe he really did find her beautiful.</p><p>Inhaling, Sam took a couple mincing steps backwards toward the bed. Charles let his eyes rove over her, drinking it in with a mix of his quick, polished observational skills and yet with something that seemed on the cusp of wild. A part of her felt awkward and exposed standing there in nothing but her lavender panties – in fact, she felt almost childish in the color – but she was glowing under his unrelenting gaze. Her skin was on fire. The silence was suffocating.</p><p>“S- Say something,” she begged in a whisper.</p><p>Charles licked his lips, looked her in the eyes, and answered, “I want you.” </p><p>It was so honest and simple, Sam reached automatically for him. He anticipated the movement and managed, with a dexterity that caught her off guard, to sweep the two of them onto the bed, landing with his forearms on either side of her to keep his full weight off. Sam smiled, bashful but certain, hooked her arms around his back and pulled him down to meet her. This wasn’t the first time they had been tangled in one another’s arms, though it was admittedly the first time they were in a state of undress.</p><p>Charles didn’t shy away from the invitation. He eased his body onto hers and sighed contentedly into her mouth as they kissed one another. His tongue teased hers, his teeth caught at her bottom lip. Soon, his lips were roaming along her jawline. He turned her head to the side, firm but gentle, and dipped into the curve of her neck, breathing in the fragrant skin there before he gave her a sharp bite. She yelped and squirmed under him, and he responded by licking and kissing the inflamed spot to sooth it.</p><p>“C- Charles!”</p><p>“Yes, sweetheart?” he asked into her collarbone, his words humming against her skin. He didn’t give Sam time to answer, however, before his mouth was on her breast and the words caught in her throat. His hand cupped her free breast and his thumb pad rolled over her nipple in time with his tongue darting over its twin. Sam positively writhed at the sensation. How could something feel both pleasurable and unbearable? But Charles seemed to have no intention of stopping. His fingertips and palm worked her one breast, luxuriating in the yielding flesh and the little noises that it worked out of Sam, while he attended to her other breast with slow strokes of his tongue from every possible angle and nips and kisses to keep her guessing.</p><p>It was only when Charles felt her hips buck unconsciously under him that he moved on. Sam watched, fascinated and mortified, as he worked his way lower, his lips blazing a trail across the plane of her stomach. She had subjected herself to enough “exposure therapy” to know where his final destination would be and something coiled itself deep inside of her in anticipation. Her fingers were threaded through his hair, as if she could somehow gain some control over his movements, so that by the time he slid backward to position himself between her legs and glanced up, his carefully slicked back hair was no more. He blue eyes peered at her from beneath his pale eyelashes and tousled blond hair. Sam moaned aloud.</p><p>“My, my, I haven’t even done anything yet.” He was smiling devilishly. He wasted no time in curling his fingers under her panties over her most sensitive spot and hooking them to the side in one fluid movement to expose the choicest morsel to his hungry eyes. Sam had definite cause to whimper now, withdrawing her hands to try and stifle the noises. It was in vain. When Charles gave an exploratory lick along her folds, she made sounds she had never thought to hear from herself. They seemed to encourage Charles, who began ministering to her with everything in his arsenal, always tuned to her reactions and adjusting accordingly. When his tongue probed and plumbed her, it was intoxicating; but when he toyed with and sucked at her clitoris, carefully pressing first one and then a second finger into her until she almost thrashed under him, she came absolutely undone. </p><p>She rode the waves of her orgasm, lost in the surreal pleasure. Things were hazy, dreamlike, for a minute after. Charles was kissing her again. His lips were hot against hers and she realized that the taste coming off him was really the taste of her, and something about it caused her belly to clench again. She moaned his name and he responded by grinding his hips into her.</p><p>Charles had tended to her with care but Sam was still feverish and yearning. She wanted more, to feel the thing she had dreamt of – him inside of her. She was impatient with the fabric still separating them. She wiggled under him, fighting to free herself of her slicked panties, and he rolled off her just enough to facilitate the removal. She practically kicked the undergarment off and then, to Charles’ evident surprise, she started tugging at the elastic of his briefs as well.</p><p>“Easy there, bunty,” he chuckled before rolling onto his back and lifting his hips in invitation. Sam drew herself up, kneeling on legs that were unexpectedly wobbly, and took ahold of his underwear a second time. She peeled them down slowly, not afraid per se so much as wanting to enjoy the revelation, like purposefully unwrapping a Christmas present, her curiosity tinged with awe. The elastic caught on Charles’ arousal. He gave a little grunt and reached out to help her, but Sam beat him to it. She slipped her hand inside and curled her fingers around his member, holding him in place while she eased the briefs over and down. Charles made a choked sound and pressed his head back into the pillow, letting Sam finish the job by working the fabric to his ankles and off.</p><p>But Sam’s boldness failed her after the job was done. She remained kneeling, chewing lightly on her bottom lip. As turned on as she was, she had no clue what came next. Charles, as composed as he could be in the circumstances, smiled reassuringly at her. “Come here,” he beckoned, still recumbent on the bed. As she came closer, he placed a hand on the back of her thigh and guided her leg over him so that she was straddling his waist. “Perfect,” he murmured in approval, lightly cupping her breasts again as she hovered over him, unsure of herself.</p><p>He sensed her uneasiness and the creeping self-doubt, and, without a word of explanation, slid his hands down until he was gripping her hips. He scooted her body backward until his arousal was pressed against her ass. Sam jerked in surprise, but he held her in place. “That is your doing,” he asserted, holding her gaze. “You are gorgeous and I am here because I want you. Because I… trust you.”</p><p>Sam sucked in a sharp breath. She leaned forward, steadying herself by splaying her hands over his chest. His muscles were taut and she made an involuntary sound of appreciation. “K- Kiss me,” she demanded, though her voice trembled a little.</p><p>“As you wish.” Charles wove his fingers into her hair, threading them to the back of her head and pulling her to meet him in a passionate kiss. One arm wound around her waist and locked her to his body. His cock, still snug against her ass, strained and, slowly, without either intending it, the two of them found themselves rocking leisurely against one another, low moans escaping between breathless kisses.</p><p>The tension in Sam was coiling tighter and tighter, something wild winning out against her inhibitions. She sat up slightly and kissed Charles’ forehead. “I… I want you.” She was ready. She was sure.</p><p>He understood her perfectly. Charles flipped them in one fluid motion, taking advantage of the fact that Sam’s legs were conveniently wrapped around him already. He shifted between her legs, his arousal brushing against her folds. She gasped and squeezed her eyes shut but was caught off guard when the next thing she felt was his forehead resting against hers.</p><p>“Look at me, Samara,” he coaxed tenderly. How could she refuse? Sam opened her eyes and searched the affectionate gaze looking back at her. Yes, she was ready. She was sure. He wanted to share this with her and she wanted it too. She bit her lip and draped her arms around his neck. Charles’ lips curled and then his hips dipped, testing her, working slowly at her until she opened for him.</p><p>She was trying to be strong but the first push of him tore a cry from her, as gentle as he was. Charles stopped, hesitated, was on the verge of saying something when Sam shook her head, still locked on his ocean blue eyes. “K- Keep going. Please.”</p><p>	She felt him withdraw and was about to object when he made another smooth stroke, driving a little deeper this time. She could tell by the way the muscles in his back strained that he was holding himself back and she cherished him even more for it. Charles continued with infinite patience, exploring by slow strokes Sam’s tolerance. He devoured each whimper and twitch of her body until suddenly, almost without noticing it, the worst of it was over for her and strange, heady sensations took their place. Sam’s hips arched off the bed in an uncontrolled desire to meet him, to take him deeper.</p><p>Charles’ eyelids slammed shut, a grunt of pleasure escaping. “<i>Fy duw</i>…”</p><p>	“Charles,” Sam mewled.</p><p>He cut her off with a fierce kiss, desperate to focus on the way their tongues entwined as opposed to the way his hips slotted into hers on the downstroke and how exquisitely tight she was around him. This was nothing like the meaningless sex that had filled his last few years. It was electric, incandescent, brand new yet familiar in a way he both understood and hadn’t put a name to. He broke their kiss and buried his face in her shoulder, breathing in the sweet musk coming off her slightly sweaty skin. </p><p>Sam let her hands wander over his body freely as he moved above her, now fast, now slow, moving to a rhythm which was both hers to control and of his own making. Through the haze of pleasure building inside of her, she marveled at the way his muscles moved and the feel of her fingertips digging into his slick skin. She ran her nails over him and Charles gave a low growl, then bit into her shoulder. Pleasure and pain shot through her. She shivered against him.</p><p>She had no idea how much time had passed – only that she both wanted her release and for Charles to never stop. The sight of him was maddening, strands of messy blond hair sticking to his temples, half-lidded blue eyes devouring her, lips parted from exertion and irrepressible groans. This was a side of Charles she had never seen. He was unpolished and unguarded, and Sam was overwhelmed by the dual sensation of her approaching climax and a heart swollen with messy emotions. She wanted to say something to give vent to her feelings. She wanted him to know how close she felt to him and how much she treasured him. Instead, all she could do was throw back her head and cry out her ecstasy as it crested, limbs tangled desperately with his.</p><p>As if driven over the edge, Charles jerked, joining his lower, bass groans to her higher pitch. He slowed his pace, riding his orgasm to completion through languid, deep strokes that left Sam whimpering helplessly, sensitive as she was. When it was over, he settled himself atop her, their bodies still fit tightly together, like a puzzle, and caught her lips in a kiss that was indescribably sweet. The affection in it was overpowering. Sam felt heat spring into her eyes and blinked, turning her head away in embarrassment, but he would have none of it. He nuzzled her face back, skimmed his lips over the hair on her forehead and the corner of her eye, and then caught her in another kiss.</p><p>“Samara.” Charles sighed her name, sounding content in a way that gave her goosebumps. “Do you feel okay? Are you in pain?” he asked, ocean blue studying her carefully, a receding tide pulling her into the depths. </p><p>Sam shook her head, savoring the weight of him, and smiled through a haze of tears. “I… I’m just so happy,” she whispered. Even the way her ankles were still hooked on his calves was new and beautiful to her.</p><p>He chuckled as he brushed away sweat-damped hair from around her face. “As am I, bunty…”</p><p>“Charles?”</p><p>“Mm?” A post-euphoric fatigue was settling over them both. Charles rolled off Sam but didn’t let her go, gathering her up and settling her against his side, her head resting in the crook of his shoulder. She looked up at him and nibbled on her thumb before speaking.</p><p>“May I tell you one more thing I love?”</p><p>He combed his fingers through Sam’s hair, his chest rumbling as he laughed quietly. “Certainly, though I may need a little time before I can offer you another reward of the same caliber…” he teased.</p><p>Her liquid, brown eyes gazed up at him. “I love you.”</p><p>She heard his breath hitch as Charles’ hand stilled in her hair. His countenance changed, myriad inscrutable emotions flashing across his features. She waited, equally breathless, for his response but the seconds ticked by and the silence started to unnerve her. A moment before she opened her mouth to apologize, he tightened his grip on her and took hold of her chin with this other hand, his thumb caressing the length of her lip.</p><p>“I spoke too soon. I find I am ready to offer you that reward after all,” he practically growled, his Welsh accent thick again. “Come here, bunty, and let me show you how I love you.”</p>
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